221B's, Christmas Style!
by starrysummernights
Summary: John has a new interest in his life and Sherlock is very jealous. A collection of Christmas-themed 221B's. Rated T for language, suggestive scenes, and, of course, unapologetic slash.
1. Gladstone

**I am currently angry at my other fic because Sherlock is not behaving in the way I want him to. So, as John Watson goes for some air when Sherlock is at his most intolerable, I will step away and write a 221B.**

**Many thanks to Ificial_Art from DeviantArt . com for the very pretty cover for this story. A link to her artwork can be found on my profile page :)**

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John had a new interest in his life and Sherlock hated it. It kept John away from him, distracted him, and reduced John's verbal skills to those of an idiot. Sherlock glared and pouted and ignored this new development as best he could. Until it peed on his shoes.

"_John_! If you don't get rid of this beast I will make it my new test subject!"

John's appeared in the doorway and frowned. "You'll not hurt Gladstone. You're just being grumpy. Don't listen to your Uncle Sherlock, Gladstone. He's just a git." John cooed at the puppy, picking it up and cuddling it to his chest. Sherlock's glare intensified.

"I am not related to that…that _monstrosity_." Sherlock hissed, indignant.

"Come on, Sherlock, just hold him. He's so sweet and cuddly."

John thrust the little puppy into Sherlock's arms and smiled at the look of horror and revulsion that crossed his flat-mate's face.

Sherlock looked at the short, fat little Bulldog puppy that was obviously trying to look very tough and failing miserably. It looked adorable and it _was_ rather cuddly. It reminded Sherlock of John, but he decided not to tell John this. Perhaps he would not experiment on it after all.

Maybe he could get used to having it in the house. They were kind of cuddly, weren't they? Bulldogs?


	2. Christmas Jumpers

**Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed this story! I love getting reviews- they honestly make my day. Thanks also to the people who have followed and favorited. I cannot wait until Christmas and this fic was inspired by that. Also, I really wanted to put Sherlock in a horrible jumper. :)**

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"_I'm not wearing that_."

The jumper John was extending was lurid green with grinning snowmen standing in the snow across the bottom, glittery snowflakes embroidered all over the jumper and falling around them. Sherlock felt nauseous looking at it.

"Come on, Sherlock, I'm wearing one."

Sherlock glanced in disgust at John's jumper, which was white with huge red poinsettias drifting about, and felt his lip curl. "Is that supposed to reassure me?"

"It's almost Christmas, we're helping Mrs. Hudson put up a tree. It'll be festive and fun. Even Gladstone is wearing one."

Sherlock glanced at the sulky looking Bulldog who was indeed wearing a red sweater with a glitter snowflake motif.

"We have very different definitions of _fun_."

John leaned over Sherlock's chair and placed his face very close to his. "Please?" he breathed, and Sherlock's breath caught in his throat as he stared at John's eyes from mere inches away. "Please, Sherlock?"

"I won't leave the flat in it."

John beamed and tossed the sweater at him. Mrs. Hudson appeared a few minutes later, armed with tree trimming supplies and her camera. Sherlock looked faintly sick.

That was how Mrs. Hudson got her favorite picture of her boys, clad in their Christmas jumpers. She placed it with pride on her mantelpiece.

Sherlock began plotting ways to get John back.


	3. Nargles

**Thanks so much to the people who reviewed, followed, and favorited my 221B's. I am truly honored that you think so much of my little drabbles. I hope you enjoy my latest one. I am being inspired by Christmas- I cannot help it. It is my favorite holiday. Please read and review! :D**

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The case had taken the better part of two days to crack. Sherlock was manic, pursuing leads and experimenting into the wee hours of the morning. John had not slept in his bed, instead kipping on the sofa so as to be as close to Sherlock as possible. Sherlock claimed that having John in the same room with him helped him think. So long as John was able to sleep, he did not object.

It happened as the pair was leaving Scotland Yard, after giving their statements to Lestrade. Sherlock paused in the doorway and looked up.

"Mistletoe."

"I've heard it's full of nargles." John said, smiling, looking up at the unoffending little bunch of greenery.

"What are nargles?" Sherlock frowned, clearly at a loss with the reference.

"No idea." John laughed.

Suddenly, Sherlock's expression changed, from bemused and aggravated, to calculating and predatory. John's smile slipped off his face and he was caught in the depths of Sherlock's eyes, unable to look away.

Was Sherlock about to-? Here? John licked his lips.

"Getting cozy with the freak under the mistletoe?"

John jumped at the sound of Donovan's mocking voice and turned to glare at her.

"I was until you interrupted." John replied caustically. He heard Sherlock gasp behind him.

Without another word, Sherlock stalked away, John, smiling, following happily behind.


	4. Snowball Fight!

**Thanks to everyone for reading my 221B's! I have 10 followers and I thank you guys- as well as the 5 people who have favorited me! I am so flattered! Please, as always, read and review! I am desperate for snow...sighs...**

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The wind was cold and biting and all John could think of was getting back inside the nice, warm flat and making a hot cup of tea.

"Hurry up, Gladstone!" he said impatiently.

The puppy took no notice, obviously taking his own revenge for the Christmas jumper incident. John gritted his teeth, fisted his hands in his pockets, and stomped his feet in the snow to keep warm.

After 15 minutes of shivering, John was beginning to think Sherlock had been right when he called Gladstone a 'monstrosity' when-

SPLAT!

John stared in surprise at Sherlock who was already building another wet snowball.

The resulting snowball fight became furious, the two men laughing and yelling alternatively, depending on exactly how well their snowball hit their target.

Suddenly, John slipped and went down, grabbing onto Sherlock's arm and bringing him down as well. They lay in the snow, panting and giggling. John slowly became aware that Sherlock was not laughing, was looking at him seriously, his eyes dropping to John's lips.

John held his breath.

Suddenly, Gladstone launched himself onto the pair, barking happily, and ready to play. Sherlock jerked away and offered a hand to help John up.

"We should get back inside."

Sherlock stomped after him, wondering how many more of his attempts to kiss John were going to backfire.


	5. Santa Claus

**Thank you, thank you, thank you for following and favoriting my little drabbles! :D Thanks also for reviewing- I LOVE reviews! :D Hope you enjoy reading!**

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Running through darkened streets, streetlamps glowing, cold wind slapping his face, legs pumping, heart pounding- _exhilarating_. John had never been happier in his life, following the tall, dark shadow ahead of him. He could have laughed from the sheer joy of the moment- if it had not been for the criminal they were pursuing dressed as Santa Claus.

Actually, that fact made him want to laugh all the more.

John giggled breathlessly as he watched Sherlock wrestle with the man dressed in red and white, throw him to the ground, then sit on him, grinning triumphantly.

"You do realize how crazy this is?"

Sherlock's only response was a grunt. He was holding the man down and texting Lestrade at the same time.

"Looks like you won't be getting any presents this year." John continued.

"Do try and be serious, John, this man has murdered someone."

This advice would have been more effective if Sherlock had not been laughing as well, his deep laugh echoing in the alleyway.

"Did you ever wonder if there was something wrong with the two of you?" Lestrade asked, minutes later, as Santa Claus was taken away in handcuffs. John and Sherlock were doubled over in laughter, clutching each other for support.

John ignored him, already trying to decide how he would title this for his blog.


	6. Sherlock's Christmas Present

**You guys are just too awesome! I am overwhelmed with the positive reviews, favorites, and follows I have gotten for these drabbles. I am so grateful! :D Here is a quick idea that could not be ignored. I am still planning on Sherlock kissing John so this may be a little stand-alone 221B (I am a great fan of Romantically Awkward Sherlock).**

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"I'm not getting you that for Christmas."

"You asked, John. I merely told you what I wanted."

"It's disgusting, Sherlock. No. Choose something else."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and stretched on the sofa. "Why should I keep suggesting when every request is denied?"

"Choose something not _gross_, Sherlock, like a book or, I don't know…new experimenting equipment. Does everything you want have to be bloody?"

Sherlock's eyes slid to the side to glance at John and his heart began to pound. Could he ask John for that for Christmas? Would that be too cliché?

"What?"

"Nothing. Buy me whatever you want."

"You obviously had something in mind, Sherlock. What was it? As long as it is not bloody and was not once alive."

Sherlock opened his mouth-

"Or pickled or steeped in formaldehyde." John added, smiling knowingly.

Sherlock frowned. "You obviously have something in mind to give me. Just do that and we can stop this annoying conversation."

He huffed, annoyed, and settled back against the sofa, closing his eyes and blocking John out, attempting to think.

Moment later, Sherlock's eyes flew open when John's lips brushed against his, softly and hesitantly. When Sherlock didn't resist, John briefly deepened the kiss before pulling back to smile down at him.

"Was that a suitable Christmas present?"

"It didn't come with a bow."


	7. John the Elf

**Poor, poor John.**

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Angry voices drifted from the bottom of the stairs as the front door slammed open.

"I'm never speaking to you again, Sherlock."

"You are speaking to me now."

The two men entered the flat, the shorter man in front, dressed in a green elf costume, complete with green and white striped tights, curly-toed slippers, hat, and ears. The taller man was smirking broadly, very pleased and smug with himself.

"Tonight was such _bullshit_." The elf hissed, flinging the green hat to the floor and stomping into the kitchen.

"It was necessary. You needed to blend in, John." Sherlock said soberly, heroically not laughing.

"I fucking hate you right now, Sherlock."

Sherlock casually leaned against the doorframe to better watch John stomp about the kitchen making tea. Sherlock had already snapped multiple pictures during the night and one was currently his phone's background image. He decided not to tell John this.

"Now you know how I felt when you forced me to wear that hideous jumper."

"Sherlock, that was _two weeks_ ago!" John paused, breathing heavily. "Are you telling me you did this because of the jumpers?"

Sherlock merely raised an eyebrow and looked at John. "You do look rather jolly and adorable in that costume. Besides, wasn't it _fun_?"

John replied with an expletive that would have made a sailor blush.


	8. Christmas Carols

**Thanks to everyone! :)**

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John came down the stairs, heart pounding and his breathing erratic.

The main room was completely dark except for the multicolored lights of the tree. Sherlock was in his thinking pose on the sofa. His eyes cracked open when John stumbled in.

He avoided looking at Sherlock, instead slumping in his armchair, throwing his head back, and closing his eyes with a defeated sigh.

Neither man said a word but Sherlock knew why John was up at 2:30am. Another nightmare, a flashback from Afghanistan, a particularly horrible one judging from his pasty complexion and the sweat beaded at his temple.

Sherlock stood, picked up his violin, and began to play a peaceful melody that he hoped could soothe John's frayed nerves.

The tune soon switched into "Joy to the World." Sherlock played, his body swaying with the music.

John didn't open his eyes.

Once that song ended, Sherlock began playing" Let It Snow." He heard John shift in his chair and risked a glance. John was barely smiling, only the corners of his mouth turning up. His eyes were still sad.

Sherlock kept playing.

John's face finally lit up as Sherlock began playing "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer."

Sherlock smiled and his eyes locked with John's. They shared a look, full of words unspoken.

Sherlock, his heart fluttering, began playing Jingle Bells.


	9. Snowman

"It's too big, Sherlock, it won't fit."

"It's not too big." Came the irritated reply, followed by grunting and heavy breathing.

"You're supposed to be a genius. You should be able to tell that something that big-"

"Be quiet, John, and let me work."

John sighed, annoyed, but Sherlock ignored him and heaved the massive snowball he had been working on atop the other two large lumps of snow. He stood back to admire his handiwork. John laughed.

"It's head is massive."

Sherlock had to concede that the snowman was now oddly misshapen, having a head that was twice as big as his bottom but he refused to give John the satisfaction of being proven right.

"It was your idiotic idea to make a snowman, John." He replied testily. John had discovered Sherlock had never made a snowman before and John, in typical John-fashion, had decided they had to make one at once.

John simply smiled and pulled buttons out of his pocket for the eyes and handed Sherlock the carrot for the nose. Sherlock was just adding a series of buttons for the mouth when John giggled.

"Just one more thing," He said, grinning and running back into the flat.

Sherlock glared when John returned and laughingly placed the deerstalker on the snowman's head.

"Now it's you, bighead."

Sherlock glared.


	10. Silent Night

**It took me a bit to get this chapter the way I wanted but I am finally happy with it. Herein, Sherlock finally gets his opportunity. This 221B is unrelated to "Sherlock's Christmas Present," which is, in my opinion, a stand-alone in these loosely connected drabbles. You, readers, may read them as you wish for maximum enjoyment! That's what they are written for, after all! :D**

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The snow swirled around the two men strolling through the park, the moon making the snow already on the ground glitter like diamonds. Fairy lights were strung about the trees and John could not stop grinning.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

Sherlock shrugged, not really focused the dull scenery.

John noticed Sherlock staring at him. "What?"

"Nothing."

Sherlock frowned, exasperated, and looked away. This was much more difficult than it looked on telly. Kissing John had become the hardest case he ever had.

John laughed. "There's snow in your hair."

Sherlock turned to look down at John, a sarcastic retort on his lips, when suddenly he couldn't stand it anymore.

Tightly closing his eyes, Sherlock mashed his lips to John's.

John's eyes flew open in surprise at the sudden attack. Sherlock remained unmoving, his lips firmly pressed to John's, eyes squinted closed, shakily breathing through his nose warming John's cheek.

Then John smiled, slid his eyes closed, cupped Sherlock's cheek, and gentled the kiss. He moved his lips over Sherlock's unhurriedly. Sighing, Sherlock happily followed John's lead.

When John pulled away and looked up at him, smiling, the lights reflected in John's eyes and for once Sherlock was speechless. As they left the park, hand in hand, Sherlock realized John had been wrong. The night was not pretty. The night was absolutely beautiful.


	11. Let It Snow, Let It Snow

John took in the destruction of the kitchen with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"Sherlock, what-?"

"It's _snow_, John!" Sherlock said, proudly. "It was really a simple science experiment…"

He kept talking while John looked round at the fluffy white masses that were everywhere: kitchen counters, table, floor, sink, spilling from the top of the cabinets. He groaned visualizing the clean-up.

"Snow."

"Yes. Didn't I just say that?"

Sherlock, without warning, threw a handful of snow into the air like so much confetti. It drifted down in large flakes, looking very much like the real thing. Sherlock smiled in delight and John had to admit that it was rather enchanting.

Sherlock grinned at John and threw another large handful of fake snow into the air. He then leaned forward and captured John's lips in a wicked kiss that left the good doctor gasping for air when they separated.

Snow had settled all over their clothing and hair and Sherlock even had a few flakes stuck to his eyelashes. John had just started dusting him off when Sherlock threw more snow into the air and kissed him again.

When they pulled away, understanding dawned for John.

"Did you do this just to kiss me?"

When Sherlock nodded, John grinned, threw a handful of snow into the air, and kissed Sherlock so thoroughly he blushed.

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**Am I the only person who has ever made fake snow? Google it! You can actually make it, though my results were not as fine as what Sherlock achieved- but then, he is Sherlock so of course he got it right. :)**


	12. Gingerbread Men

**Merry Christmas!**

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"It's…good, Sherlock."

"Don't patronize me, John."

"I'm not. Well…ok, it's a bit…blobby but otherwise-"

"Why must we continue doing these inane Christmas 'rituals'? They're trivial and dull!"

"Don't be angry because your gingerbread man looks a bit odd. They'll still taste delicious."

Sherlock glared down at his blobby gingerbread man and wished death on it. John's attempts were all neatly laid out while his clung drunkenly to the wax paper and looked like an amputee.

"Stop laughing at me," Sherlock said threateningly but John continued to chuckle.

Sherlock snapped and, reaching a hand into the bowl of frosting, smeared a large dollop across John's mouth and cheek.

"Shut up." He glared. John stared at him in shock.

John recovered, grinned, and picked up Sherlock's blobby gingerbread man. He smeared the dough man down Sherlock's face from forehead to chin. He smiled, pleased, when he was done.

Sherlock's expression made John laugh even harder than before.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed dangerously.

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Mrs. Hudson hummed as she walked up the stairs, eager to try the gingerbread men John and Sherlock had been making earlier.

When she opened the door, the sight that met her eyes made her pause, shocked, and she goggled as the two men broke apart, cheeks flushing.

She blushed, slammed the door, and called out, "I'll be back in a bit."


	13. New Year's

Sherlock watched the fireworks burst in the sky, sending showers of red, green, gold, and silver cascading back to earth. There were gasps all around him of "oohs" and "aahs" and excited screams.

He rotated his shoulders, hating being in the crowd on New Year's- too many people, drunk, obnoxious.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Sherlock looked down at the man beside him, holding his gloved hand in his, and the world fell away. He forgot about the crowd, forgot about his earlier annoyance, forgot about everything but John Watson who was staring up at him with such love and affection in his eyes that it took Sherlock's breath away.

He leaned down and kissed John, tightening his grip on his hand and pulling him closer.

John pulled away, laughing. "We're supposed to wait until midnight."

Sherlock buried his face in John's neck and groaned. "_Please_, John. Let's go home." He dropped his voice suggestively and John shivered. "I would much rather be buggering you at midnight and that might shock these people."

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They never made it home. John protested it was too cliché to do in an alleyway. Sherlock silenced his protests with heated kisses. The two men tangled in the dark alley, muffling curses and groans.

Despite what he said, Sherlock still kissed John to the midnight tolling of Big Ben.

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**Here is the end of my Christmas- and I suppose now New Year's- themed 221B's. Thanks so much to everyone for reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting these. Much love! :)**


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